


The Newmann Prompts In Which Hermann and Newt Are Together and Happy

by Bearslayer



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bickering, Body Positivity, Fluff, M/M, Marriage, Pride, Sex Dreams, body issues, gay scientists loving each other like no one else is willing, prompt fills, writer lives vicariously through fictional characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearslayer/pseuds/Bearslayer
Summary: This is a compilation of all the prompts I've filled on my tumblr gathered into one place.





	1. Positivity (Hermann feels bad about his body, Newt won't stand for it)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!
> 
> As the summary says, these are all of my tumblr prompts. If you'd like to see future prompts, want to prompt me, or just wanna see what kind of nonsense I talk about, feel free to follow me at wittygaypuns.tumblr.com! If you'd rather not, feel free to subscribe to this post and I'll be posting my tumblr fics here after the fact. Enjoy.

Hermann frowned as he looked in the mirror, scrutinizing his body. He was practically naked save for the towel around his waist, fresh out of the shower, and feeling extremely low. Hermann had never liked his body, and for more reasons than just his disability. As a child he had been healthy and active, but as he grew older, and his condition worsened, he began to thin out. He had never been able to put on any significant weight, unable to eat enough, unable to gain much in the way of muscle mass. The boys had been cruel growing up, but the men as he got older weren't much better, mocking his scrawniness either blatantly or behind his back.

He had tried to maintain a positive outlook, telling himself that his mind was what mattered. But as he observed himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but frown. He was pale as a ghost, his stomach practically concave, and the scarring on his hip was ugly and thick. He wouldn't even begin to think about his face and how unusual it was, or how his legs were skinny and knobby-kneed. Hermann closed his eyes for a moment, giving a deep sigh.

“... Helloooo.” Newton's voice was obnoxiously cheerful.

“Ah. Good morning. Where did you go?” Hermann asked. He had woken to an empty bed, which surely didn't help his mood.

“I got us breakfast! Pancakes, waffles, fruit, bacon, eggs... The whole nine yards. But uh, if you wanted we could just warm it up later...” Newton crept up behind him, arms slinking around his waist and resting his warm cheek between his shoulder blades.

Newton was always so warm, so soft. The arms around his waist were thick and strong. He laid a hand against one of them, thumb tracing the familiar lines of his tattoos. Maybe he could just find comfort in Newton, who had clearly taken his nudity as a proposition. It would be easy to forget his own problems by getting lost in sensation, which was easy to do with Newt, who accepted every advance with enthusiasm. But the more he thought about it, the more Hermann wanted to curl up in bed, fully clothed, and sleep the day away. He didn't want to disappoint him.

“No... we can eat now.” Hermann gave a little smile as Newton's eyes appeared over his shoulder, looking at him in the mirror. His brows furrowed instantly.

“What's wrong, Herms? And don't say nothing. We drifted, I know when you're lying.” He said. Hermann was almost positive that drift-bonds didn't work like that, but he felt too low to even argue the semantics.

“Mm, it's nothing serious.” Hermann said dismissively.

“Nope. Unacceptable. Tell me now or I'm not gonna be able to enjoy breakfast, and you know how much I love breakfast. I love it so much sometimes I eat it for lunch and dinner too.” Newton said. Hermann could feel his stomach grumbling against his back.

“Newton, darling. You're clearly hungry.” Hermann said. He was trying to avoid the conversation, but his heart just wasn't in it and Newt could tell.

“Dude. You're standing in front of a mirror nearly naked and sad-eyed and I can't just let that go. Please talk to me.” Newton added a bit of a whine to his voice, though the genuine nature of his worry broke Hermann down. He trailed his fingers along Newt's arm, staring down at it as he spoke.

“I just woke in a poor mood, I suppose. I – I'm having a hard time with my body. I'm not fond of it.”

Newton stared at him in the mirror, bringing his hands across the hollow of his belly, bringing them to rest on his hips. He said nothing yet, just placing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. His silence spurred Hermann on, keeping himself talking to fill the silence as Newton began to gently draw his fingers along his sides.

“I'm spindly and awkward and not a thing like you. You're confident and strong and...” Hermann began.

“Hermann, why do you think I'm so proud of who I am and how I look? Why do you think I love my belly and my tattoos and my stretch marks as much as I do?” Newton cut him off, pulling away and moving off to the side. As he spoke, he was stripping his clothing off. Hermann knew the way his mind worked, and that meant it was going a hundred miles a minute to reassure him. Already he was beginning to feel a little better. Newton loved him so much despite his flaws.

“I think you must love the way you look because you must know that you're gorgeous. Your belly is delightful and soft, your tattoos are as bright and brilliant as you, and the stretch marks map out the journey your body has gone through as you've put your weight back on and gotten healthy again. I could spend days just watching you.” Hermann said. They came across as compliments, but were spoken as irrefutable truths.

“Jesus – Hermann – a huge part of the reason I love myself so much is because **you** love me so much. And like, I trust your judgment, right? So I figure if you love me and you love my body than I must be lovable, because you don't do shit unless it makes sense to you. Loving me makes sense to you, so it makes sense to me and I figured I had to get on board, right? The way you talk about me, the way you adore me, holy shit. Makes my confidence skyrocket.” As Newton spoke, he clumsily tossed his clothing to the side and began to pull Hermann back towards the bed.

“Newton, I -” Hermann began only to be cut short again.

“No, no, you gotta listen, this is important. I've always had a hard time loving myself. I was a chunky kid, then a fat teenager with a mental illness. I had a nickname in primary school, you know? Kids called me roly-poly because one time I was getting my ass kicked and I just kinda rolled into a ball to protect myself, like a pillbug. I hated it. I hated it so much, Hermann. I hated _myself_ because of how other people saw me. I thought I was a disgusting bug and that I wasn't important. It was an uphill fight for me to be okay with myself. Part of that was me learning more about bugs and realizing that armadillidiidae are incredibly important for the ecosystem because they're detritivores; they make the soil inhabitable for plants by aiding in the process of organic matter decomposition, they feed the birds who carry the seeds from place to place, they feed the other insects that play a huge roll in keeping everything running. And yeah, maybe that part was small but it was important, and I embraced being called a roly-poly, because god damnit, that meant I was important!” Newton was fully rambling, lacing together an analogy that made more sense to him than it did Hermann, but that he appreciated all the same. The sound of his voice drowned out the bitterness that was stewing within him, tamped down the malicious voice inside his own head telling him that he wasn't good enough. Newton pulled the taller man into his lap, arranging him carefully so as not to agitate his hip, wrapping his arms around him, pressing their bodies close. He had wondered at first why Newton was getting naked, just assuming he would express his affection physically, but understood now. The touch of skin to skin was soothing in a way he had not accounted for, even if it wasn't sexual. Newton was warm and soft in all the spots Hermann liked.

“And yeah, I did sort of apply the whole 'fake it til you make it' thing when it came to confidence, but then you came along, Hermann. The first time you told me you loved me, you remember how I reacted?” Newt asked, his tone a bit more calm now.

“I remember that you wept and I thought I had offended you.” Hermann frowned a little.

“And remember what happened after?” Newton continued.

“You... kissed me.” Hermann smiled.

“I kissed you, and I asked you a question.” Newton corrected. Hermann furrowed his brows, recalling the day; their emotions were frenzied. Newton had finally been freed from the influence of the Precursors and had just come out of a state of near catatonia. The sight of him acting himself again had practically wrenched the confession from Hermann's lips in his relief. The tears had terrified him, and when he had bumbled an apology and Newton kissed him... Newton had held his face and looked at him in anguish.

“'How could you possibly love me?'” Hermann recited the words he had spoken years ago.

“And the way you answered, Herms – you said that I was everything to you, that – that being without me had made you feel like half a man... that just to see me smiling the way I used to made you feel like you could do anything. It meant everything to me, Hermann. I stopped hating myself that day because if I had someone as amazing as you lovin' me, well, who the hell was I to feel that way?” Newton told him. As he spoke, his hands slid across Hermann's body, touching delicately, reverently.

“I meant every word of it, Newton.” Hermann said. The intensity of Newton's words jarred him.

“I know, Herms. And I'm not anywhere near as good with words as you are, but god damnit you aren't allowed to not like your body, because I love it.” Newt insisted.

“What's there to love?” Hermann said; the feeling had mostly passed, but he felt like being indulged after Newton's speech.

“What's there to love!? Holy crap! What's there _not_ to love? Dude, I'm like a fucking chunky little duck and you're this fucking elegant ass swan.” Newton said, decidedly inelegant. Hermann snorted out a laugh at the mental image.

“Shut it! I'm not done. Your hands, Hermann, your hands are amazing. Your fingers are so long and your movements are so precise. The way you wrap them around my waist when we're walking together so you can squeeze my side? It instantly calms me down. It's like you're using me as a stress ball but it works both ways. The way it feels is indescribable. Don't even get me started about the other things those hands do 'cause I'm trying to keep this self-love sesh' rated PG-13.” Newton rambled, pulling one of Hermann's hands to his side. Hermann closed his eyes as he felt him, fingers lovingly flexing into his flesh.

“And your face? Hot damn man. Do you have any idea how _regal_ you look? You're so handsome. Your bone structure is stunning, and your eyes? Hooo. Your eyes are so intense. When I was trying to break out – the way you stared into my eyes was something I could hold on to. Windows to the soul and all that, but more than that. Seeing you anchored me. It gave me a reason to fight, Hermann. Your face is so expressive that I saw every bit of the pain you hid from everyone else, pain that I needed to get rid of because I only ever want to see you with the expression you have now. The way your whole face goes soft, and that little hint of a smile that I know is just for me.” Newton said, hand stroking his cheek.

“Then your chest and your back. You ever noticed the way we fit against each other? 'Cause I could talk about it for weeks. We're puzzle pieces that only fit with each other. My stomach pops right into this spot when we're laying together,” He brought the hand down to tickle faintly at Hermann's stomach, “and my cheek fits right here.” He brought the hand to Hermann's collarbone, and traced the spot to his neck. Warmth enveloped Hermann's entire being at the way Newton spoke. His fingers squeezed lightly at the chubbiness he so adored, other hand sliding along the length of his spine. His heart felt full to the brim, but Newton continued still.

“And I love your legs and thighs and hips.” Newton said. When Hermann frowned and began to protest, a hand was placed over his mouth.

“I love how fucking strong you are. When we drifted, I felt how much pain you deal with. I felt it and I could barely take it just by proxy, but you? You run around on these beautiful legs, which, by the way, are not skinny but very muscular thank you very much. Look at yourself more often. You deal with pain like it's nothing. You eat it for fucking breakfast and still manage to make it through the day. I couldn't do it. I'd be addicted to painkillers or something and I'd spend my life in a haze. And another thing; you keep me in check by that alone. Sometimes my head's so crazy and all over the place that I'm throwing myself all over the place, but when you're around I just fall into step at your side. You center me. You're my zen, even when we butt heads. Especially when we butt heads, because it gives me something to hone in on.” Newton said, using his hand to gently knead some of the tension that constantly tightened the muscles in his thighs.

“And I might not be the most logical guy, and I might do stupid crap a lot and get myself into trouble, but I wanna be for you what you are for me. I wanna be the one who gets you to love yourself just on the merit of me loving you. I want it to be that every time you start feeling bad, you remember how much I worship the ground you walk on, and that it makes you realize how amazing I find you. That the things you see as imperfection are perfect to me, just like the things I once saw in myself as flaws being things you love. I never believed in soulmates until you, Hermann, and I need you to feel as good about yourself as I do about myself because we love each other.” Newton said. It was as if years of pent up sap had finally been tapped at the sight of Hermann in a state of self-loathing. It had all come out at once, and Hermann's eyes filled with tears.

“Newton, I don't know what to say.” He whispered.

“Say 'I promise to love myself and if I start feeling bad, I'll talk to Newt about it right away so he can make it better'.” Newton instructed with a smile, leaning up to place a light kiss on his lips.

“I... I promise to love myself, and if I start feeling bad, I'll speak to you right away so that you can make it better.” Hermann stammered.

“Close enough. Now... About breakfast.” Newton hummed, looking up at him.

“We can warm it up later.” Hermann said, and used his body to drop them both back to the bed together, where they slotted together like puzzle pieces.

Newton's triumphant fist pump did not go unnoticed.

 


	2. Breakfast (Newt and Hermann have dogs, Newt makes breakfast)

“Now, the trick with American pancakes is in the bubbles. You gotta wait until you see the whole top part covered in burst bubbles before you flip 'em. You try it before that and you'll gloop all the batter back on to the pan and it'll just be a mess.” Newton said, watching the pancakes on the griddle.

He was precise, calculated, and absolutely dead set on making the best damned breakfast he could for them. Hermann, who was half awake and half-dressed, nodded a little, long arms draped over Newton's shoulders. Neither of them were really dressed; neither of them had any reason to be that day. It was a day of celebration, and Newton had decided that no good celebration was ever had with trousers on. Hermann could imagine a number of scenarios where that would be an issue, but he indulged him anyway. Their kitchen was warm, the back door open to allow a gentle breeze which felt good on his bare legs.

They were celebrating a number of things; the closing of the Breach that had happened fifteen years ago to date, their fifteen year relationship anniversary, their ten year marriage anniversary, and the fifth birthday of their adopted “sons” Sid and Harvey, a pair of beautiful Samoyed dogs. The dogs had given them a purpose after the war, after the desire to work became secondary to finding happiness. They still did tours, gave speeches, and did research, of course, but only to pay the bills (not that they had many, given their status as “war heroes”, a title both were endlessly entertained by). The dogs were something for Hermann to dote on, something for Newton to explore the wilds around their home with. Newton also enjoyed referring to them as “baby practice”; that was a relatively new sensation, one Hermann didn't know how to feel about.

“Is that one burning?” Hermann mumbled, pointing towards the small pancake on the side.

“That's for Sid. He likes the edges crispy.” Newton pointed out.

“You shouldn't feed them pancakes. It isn't good for them!” Hermann grumbled, knowing full well that Newton would do it anyway.

“It isn't like I only feed him pancakes! One pancake isn't gonna kill him.” Newton said, flipping the pancake.

“I don't want diabetic animals, Newton.” Hermann brought a hand down his chest to gently pinch at him.

“Ow! Are you saying you wouldn't love our sons if they had a medical issue?” Newt looked over his shoulder at his husband.

“No, you jackass. I'm saying I don't want them to become ill because we didn't feed them right!” Hermann huffed. Newton laughed.

“They aren't gonna get sick from pancakes. It's only for Sid, Harvey doesn't even like them! He prefers waffles and I'm not getting out the waffle maker today...” Newt hummed, flipping the human-designated pancakes.

“You feed Harvey waffles? I've seen the horrible things you do to those!” Hermann protested; Newt tended to smother them with everything he found appealing.

“What? I don't give him the ones I make for myself! I make him special ones. Plain, boring ones, like you like. He takes after you, after all.” Newt teased.

“I don't think something of a different species can 'take after' me, Newton. Also, rude.” Hermann chuckled.

“They so can and I can show you real, peer-reviewed studies confirming that. Sid takes after me, Harvey takes after you. Sid's a risky dude who hates capitalism. Harvey is a nervous nelly who plays by the rules.” Newton said.

“There are so many things wrong with those statements that I hardly know where to begin. Firstly, they're both very well behaved animals, we trained them excellently. Secondly, dogs can't possibly comprehend capitalism, don't project. Also, Harvey? Nervous? If anything Harvey is more like you in that he's never reasonably nervous about the things he should be.” Hermann said.

“Like what, dog diabetes? I assure you, he's very worried about it. That's why he doesn't get any toppings on his waffles.” Newt grinned.

“You're insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“I do.”

 


	3. Crazy He Calls Me (Post Breach-close celebration)

Celebration still rang throughout the Shatterdome, joyful noise carrying an undercurrent of relief that made even the most stoic of them feel light. Toasts to the memory of their fallen carried no pain, but the gratitude of all of humanity. The world was free from the scourge of the Anteverse, and Newton's head buzzed with the realization that he and Hermann had done it. They had _actually_ done it. They had saved the world. They were fucking rockstars, and he couldn't wipe the stupid grin off his face. Hermann was more restrained, but that was nothing new. Newt knew exactly how he was feeling. He always knew how Hermann felt, even before they drifted.

 

The difference now was that there was clarity to those feelings, a brilliant, radiant clarity that lit Newt up inside. He felt like his **soul** was glowing with the realizations that had made themselves known when they were inside each others heads. Never again did he have to secretly worry that Hermann only tolerated him because the world was ending and he had no choice. Never again did he have to freak out inside at the thought that if they managed to pull through the crisis that Hermann would be relieved to get away from him.

 

No, now that Newton knew that Hermann loved him too, he would never let him go.

 

Neither of them were much for parties and celebrations, so while the crew was popping champagne bottles in LOCCENT, the pair slipped away. Though neither had a destination in mind when they started to walk, they drifted naturally towards the laboratory where they had spent so many years. That side of the dome was practically empty, but the two still walked practically pressed against one another. Newton felt it so comfortable to be so close to him, Hermann's presence a reassurance that things didn't have to change just because the world would.

 

When they entered the lab, Newton leaned against a table and looked to Hermann.

 

“So. We're badass rockstars now. How's it feel?” He grinned. Hermann gave his typical humble smile that was only a little betrayed by the way his back straightened, both hands resting on his cane. Newton found it endearing the way he tended to puff his chest out just a little. The drift-bond was still strong enough that Newt could feel the pride pulsing off of the other man in waves. He wondered what frequency emotion was transmitted through; was it vibrations, like radio waves, or was it magnetic and electric like light?

 

“Well, I'm certainly happy the world won't be ending anytime soon, that's for certain.” Hermann said, diplomatically.

 

“Aww, c'mon man. The way we pulled through at the last minute, saved all of humanity? That was amazing! Don't you feel like celebrating?” Newton laughed.

 

“You know I'm not one for revelries. I would rather just stay here and enjoy the quiet... you're welcome to go join the crowds, of course.” Hermann said, dismissive. Newt scoffed.

 

“Nah, I'm over the crowds. I meant us celebrating together.” He suggested, trying his very best to sound casual.

 

“Ah! I see. And did you have some... form of celebration in mind?” Hermann tapped his fingers on the cane, brow raising. Newton hadn't thought that far ahead consciously, but apparently there had been some Hermann-based subprocess running deep in his mind that pulled out the answer.

 

“Dance with me.” He jumped back to his feet, offering out a hand with a reasonably obnoxious flourish.

 

Hermann's body tensed visibly, and both brows knitted skeptically. Newton could feel the shift in his mood immediately, but didn't allude to it.

 

“Dance? Why would you want to dance? There isn't even any music playing.” Hermann grumbled.

 

“I'll sing.” Newton had been honing his responses to his curmudgeon partner for years.

 

“Your voice is terrible.” Hermann said.

 

“You once described it as 'not objectively offensive' which is as glowing a recommendation as anyone has ever gotten from you.” Newton countered.

 

“I'm not a dancer. I don't know how.” Hermann said.

 

“Then I'll lead!” Newton moved a little closer. There was something else getting to Hermann. The evasive, dismissive tone in his voice hid something that Newton couldn't quite pinpoint. He had gotten past his defenses countless times, though; and with their new bond, it was only a matter of narrowing it down, finding that exclusion criteria. It wasn't the lack of music, or Newton's voice...

 

“I'll look foolish.” Hermann's jaw was set, that sharp jawline of his etched with irritation.

 

“We're the only ones in here, and I promise, you always look foolish to me.” Newt grinned. Hermann had yet to say that he didn't want to, or to move away as Newton came forward, which told him that it was something else still. Hermann wouldn't meet his eyes; not even when Newton slid his hand into the one not on the cane.

 

“Come on, Herms. What's up? You know I'm gonna weasel it out of you one way or another.” Newton asked gently. Hermann closed his eyes and gave a long-suffered sigh.

 

“It's difficult for me, physically.” Hermann said. Short, concise. It clicked for Newton, who smiled, bringing the hand he held to his shoulder and placing it there. He knew how hard Hermann strove to avoid being discounted because of his physical disability. It was one of the things he admired about him, and Newton would be damned if he let that get in the way of the type of gentle, chaste intimacy he was craving at that moment. The type he knew that Hermann wanted too.

 

“Oh, why didn't you say so? I'll totally do all the work!” Newton offered.

 

“What? What do you mean?” Hermann looked to him, confused. His face was adorable and Newton fought back his grin and the urge to pinch his cheek a little.

 

“Remember when Mako first came here, right? How little and sad she was, and how sometimes she'd wander in here? And that one time when I was blasting some old school Iggy Pop and I got her to dance with me? I know you remember. I had her stand on my feet and I got her to dance with me, and it was the first time we ever saw her smile.” Newton placed his hand over the one of Hermann's that held the cane.

 

“You're proposing I... stand on your feet? Newton, I'm a grown man, I weigh considerably more than a little girl, I --” He started.

 

“Military issue steel toed boots, you won't hurt me. It's just the two of us here, Herms. Everyone's off doing their own celebrations... I just wanna be close to you.” Newton said, hand sliding down to take the cane as he spoke. Hermann gave it, and Newton leaned it against a small table close by.

 

“I suppose your argument is... compelling enough.” Newton could feel the change again; the anxiety had been whittled away, his worries put to rest. He knew that Newton wouldn't hurt him and certainly knew that Newton would never mock him for his disability. It had never needed to be discussed between them that certain things were never okay to use as ammunition in their ridiculous arguments; Hermann's disability, Newton's mother, Hermann's father, Newton's mental health. Mock a person for their ideas, for their clothing, for their interests; that was fine. Mock a person for things out of his control and you were just a bastard.

 

“Excellent. Here... foot one.” He slid his foot over, Hermann lifting his own and placing it there with far too much caution. Newton then pulled himself flush against Hermann, smiling up at him.

 

“And foot two. Let's go.” He said.

 

Hermann's cheeks were beginning to flush pink, but there was a smile on his lips as he lifted his other foot to rest atop Newtons. Newt slid his arms around Hermann's midsection, laying his head against Hermann's chest. He could feel the beating of his heart, comforting and steady, and could feel Hermann's long arms sliding around his shoulders. Was it just to keep himself standing upright, or was it out of desire to hold him?

 

Either way, Newton enjoyed it.

 

“This is absurd...” Hermann sighed a little, chin resting atop Newt's head. “Now, please, if you're going do sing, I would prefer it not be anything ridiculous or unfitting. Something slow, maybe.”

 

“Oh, I already had a song in mind, Herms.” Newt grinned and cleared his throat as he began to hum the opening tune.

 

“I say I'll move the mountains, and I'll move the mountains, if he wants them out of the way... Crazy, he calls me; sure I'm crazy! Crazy in love, I say...” He could feel the sharp intake of breath signaling Hermann's shock.

 

“I didn't know you knew any of Billie's songs.” He said, leaning back to look at him.

 

“We've been in this lab listening to each others music for years and you think I haven't picked up what kinda stuff you like? Come on, dude.” Newton said with false offense, grinning up at him. “Now hush your mouth and let me focus on not disgracing her music. Hold me, damnit.”

 

Hermann laughed as Newton put his head back on his chest and cleared his throat again. The way Hermann squeezed his shoulders was just divine. Newton began to move them, swaying comfortably at a pace that wouldn't bother Hermann's hip. Hermann entrusted him with the movement of both of their bodies, his inherent restraint dissolving. As he began to sing once again, it was as if the world around them began to splinter and fall away, leaving only the two of them. It was Newton and Hermann against the world, together, the way it always should have been. Newton couldn't tell if it was the drift-bond or the closeness that was making him feel so weightless and free, but he didn't care as long as it never, ever ended.

 


	4. Celebration (Hermann is drunk, Newt is caring)

“Okay, come on big guy. We got this. One foot in front of the other. Or just one foot and I'll be your other one. You sure you don't want me to bridal carry you? I totally could.” Newton said, speaking softly to the man practically draped over his shoulder.

“Don't be ridiculous! I can carry myself. That's what my feet are for.” Hermann huffed even as he buried his nose in Newton's hair. “Your hair smells divine.”

“If you say so, sexy.” Newt grinned as he unlocked the door.

As a rule, neither of them really drank. For Newton, it harkened back to times when he wasn't himself in a very literal sense. For Hermann, he just didn't like the feeling, or the way that alcohol tasted. That night had been different, however; Hermann had won a goddamned Nobel Prize for his work on the Jaeger program. It was practically impossible to avoid drinking, and Newt made no effort to stop him, too busy beaming with pride for his man. Hermann had politely declined a number of drinks, but had gently caved when his sister offered a glass to celebrate. Hermann was an incredible lightweight given his size and lack of drinking experience, and after three glasses of wine and an ill-advised shot of scotch as old as the guy who presented the Prize, he was three sheets to the wind.

“No, you're the sexy one.” Hermann grumbled, leaning his head down to place a kiss to his neck as they crossed the threshold.

“We're a sexy pair, how about that?” Newt couldn't help but give a little giggle. He had never seen Hermann drunk and was thrilled at the opportunity to pick his brain while he had him like that.

“Acceptable. Can we sit? Can I have more wine? I think I like wine now. I think I'll start going to tastings.” Hermann quipped as Newton led them to the couch.

“We don't keep wine in the house, handsome. You can totally go to tastings if you want, though. I'll just pick you up from 'em when you get too sauced to drink any more.” Newt offered.

“Nonsense! You'd go with me. We'd show them all how much we can taste!” Hermann proclaimed. Newton snorted a little, pulling Hermann to his chest.

“That was weirdly competitive and totally not how wine tastings work, but I absolutely appreciate your enthusiasm. I couldn't go though, remember? How I used to drink too much?” Newt said, grinning as Hermann draped himself formlessly over his body.

“Oh! Oh no! I'm so sorry! I forgot!” Hermann shifted to look up at him, eyes wide. He brought a hand up to cup Newton's cheek, staring at him with an odd, drunken intensity.

“It's cool! You're just throwing ideas out there, seeing what sticks. I get it. It's okay!” He reassured him.

“... God, your eyes.” Hermann's train of thought switched as quickly as it had gotten on the tracks.

“What about them?” Newt blinked a little. Hermann reached up to take Newt's glasses off, and Newt had to grab them to avoid Hermann throwing them across the room in his sudden fixation. “Woah there, I need those!”

“Your eyes! Newton, my _God_ , they're brilliant!” Hermann huffed, suddenly starstruck. “They're like... like...”

“Oh man, this is gonna be good.” Newt mumbled, waiting for one of Hermann's classically excessive pieces of prose.

“... pretty. I like them very much.” Hermann hummed, and Newton couldn't help but kiss his forehead.

“Thanks. I like yours too.” He chuckled. Hermann fell silent for a moment before looking back up to Newton, brows furrowed. Newton furrowed his brows back at him, mirroring the look, but crossing his eyes in a way he found amusing and hoped Hermann would too.

“Newton?” Hermann said, his voice soft and... scared?

“Herms? You okay?” Newt sat up a little, looking at him hard (mostly because his glasses were gone and he could barely see him. His mood had changed so quickly, from bubbly and light to serious, and he was concerned. Hermann was still laid across him, his hand falling from his cheek.

“Can I be... very honest with you?” Hermann's voice was almost trembling.

“Yeah, of course.” Newton said, though dread filled his throat.

“I love you very much, Newton... So much that I can barely function when I'm not around you... I was wondering if, someday, we might marry.” Hermann said. Newton closed his eyes for a moment, dread disappearing, filled with rich amusement.

“Herms... Did you forget?” Newt could barely suppress his laughter. Hermann huffed and sat up. Newt grabbed his glasses and shoved them on just in time to see Hermann's arms crossed over his chest, indignant embarrassment written on his face.

“I don't see what's so funny! If you don't want to marry me, fine, but don't laugh at me for it! That's rude!” Hermann shouted.

Newt leaned forward and kissed his pouting lips, taking his hand. Hermann linked their fingers as Newt brought them up. Hermann's eyes focused on their linked fingers, and a blush immediately crept into his cheeks. His eyes went wide as it sank in as he saw the matching wedding bands.

“... I forgot that we were married.” Hermann croaked.

“For three years, almost four. And we're in the house we bought together. I drove us back home in the car you had to cosign for because I'm a 'credit risk'.” Newt made air quotes around the last bit, snickering at the horror on Hermann's face.

“I'm a wretched man! How could I forget I was married to you! God, why do you even love me, I'm a wreck of a man, a fool, a --” Hermann began to mourn and moan aloud, hands covering his face in a way that was so dramatic that Newt wished he had thought to record it. Memory would have to do.

“Hermann! Baby, honey, darling, it's okay!” Newt cooed, pulling his hands from his face. Hermann fought for a moment to keep them there but allowed it. “The way I see it is that you just got so lost in my eyes it transported you back to when we first started dating. And it's fucking cool, 'cause it means that you'd want to marry me all over again if we weren't already. Really, it's flattering if anything.”

“Of course I would. I love you.” Hermann said softly, giving a little smile.

“Love you too, you big softie. Now, I'm gonna go get you some water so we can sober you up before bed – wanna watch Godzilla?” Newt offered.

“Thank you. Which Godzilla, the original?” Hermann asked.

“What? How are you even asking that? Of course, the original. I can forgive you forgetting that we're married but if you ever imply I'd want to watch that American abomination of a remake.” Newt called as he moved towards the kitchen.

“Can we watch Jurassic Park instead?” Hermann said.

“You sure you wanna do that, knowing how I feel about young Jeff Goldblum? You might not wanna marry me again if I react the same way I always do when he comes on...” Newt called.

“I want to see dinosaurs!” Hermann protested.

Newton laughed, full of love for his drunken Nobel laureate.

 


	5. Jealousy (Newt harasses his man into admitting he's possessive)

“Ya like that?” Newt grinned to Hermann, wiggling his hips with his arms raised over his head. He was clearly delighting in the reaction he was dragging from Hermann, whose jaw was tight as he watched. His face was delightfully red, his knuckles white from where he clenched his cane. He was almost as colorful as Newton's torso. There was a point in his life where the curve of his belly would have embarrassed him, but that time was long ago, when he was alone and loveless.

Now?

Now he had Hermann, who watched in obvious discomfort as Newton practically strutted. Hermann was stewing in his spot, plagued by the sight of him moving proud and free, and Newton loved it. He was so close to winning their latest little argument, and his body was the perfect weapon with which to strike. There, in a public park, Newton would be victorious over his curmudgeon husband and would rub it in his face for at least a week. Passerby after passerby walked through, eyeing Newton as they did, and he watched Hermann grow more and more fidgety.

“You give up yet?” Newton asked, lacing his fingers together behind his head and pelvic thrusting at the wind.

“This is absurd, put your shirt on this instant! You're embarrassing both of us!” Hermann squawked out, thumping the end of his cane against the dirt and thrusting Newton's shirt back out at him. He looked furious, but Newton could see his win on the horizon in the way that Hermann's eyes darted back and forth and the way his upper lip twitched.

“Not until you admit it.” Newt said, spinning his body past Hermann's hand to kiss his cheek and continue to strut, winking at a particularly good looking man that went past.

“I'll do no such thi...” Hermann followed Newton's line of sight, catching sight of the man, who had grinned and paused.

The moment he did, Hermann broke, stomping between the two and glaring at the man with every fibre of his being.

“Keep your eyes to yourself, cur! He's mine!” Hermann yelled over his shoulder as he shoved the shirt against Newton's chest. The man, now blocked from Newton's view, must have carried on... but Newton didn't care. He stared up at Hermann adoringly, slinking his arms around his waist. He only ever had eyes for him.

“I'm yours, huh? Sounds... awful jealous and possessive of you.” Newton teased gently, laying his head against Hermann's chest. Hermann left the shirt trapped between them, fingers eager to slide down his back and rest on his sides, stroking the chubby body he so adored. Newton reveled in his victory; Hermann was definitely more jealous than he was when it came to their relationship.

“Well, you're my husband. I don't want anyone else looking at you but I can't imagine how they could resist with you... behaving that way.” Hermann grumbled.

“Strutting my chunk?” Newton offered.

“Whatever you want to call that atrocious dance move you were just doing. You definitely wouldn't win any prizes with that.” Hermann muttered.

“I won you, that's all the prize I need.” Newton cooed.

“There's a term for things like that...” Hermann said.

“Hm?” Newt looked up at him.

“Corny. Can you put the shirt back on now? And can we go home so that I can take it back off of you?” Hermann looked down.

Newt beamed with pride as he nodded, pulling away to put on his clothes. He then took his hand, beginning to walk back with him. The amount of willpower it took not to yell at the pretty lady that Hermann smiled at on the way was colossal, and the sheer resolve it took not to physically accost the good looking man who smiled at Hermann as he moved aside from them was nearly soul-crushing. Newton was horribly jealous; he was just much better at hiding it.

Newton would never admit that, though.

 


	6. Date Night

“Newton, you'll catch your death like that. I told you the forecast this morning, did I not?” Hermann sighed to the man, who was unrolling his sleeves hurriedly, jamming his body against his boyfriends side. It was warm enough in the afternoon when they had first left home, and Newton had mocked Hermann thoroughly for bringing “that ridiculous coat”. The temperature had since dropped significantly, and the skies seemed turbulent, ready to bury the world in rain or sleet.

“Meteorologists aren't real scientists, they're just weather astrologists! It's always a roll of the dice for those con-artists!” Newton exclaimed even as he began to huddle himself closer, intent on getting inside of the parka, it seemed.

“Newton, that's a ridiculous thing to say. Meteorology is absolutely a valid form of science. They use highly advanced measuring tools along with chemistry and maths to make educated predic-” Hermann explained.

“Hogwash! They're bullshit artists! Weather is chaos, they just throw darts at a board and hope they're right sometimes!” Newt said, voice a pitch higher than normal.

“If I give you my coat will you stop denouncing an entire field of study? Good god, Newton.” Hermann said. While he spoke, he was already shrugging off the parka. He liked the way it looked on Newton, anyway. He swam in the garment in a way that made Hermann feel positively burly.

“Me shutting up won't negate the fact that they're glorified palm readers, but yes, gimme.” Newton made little grabbing motions with his hands, but paused. “Wait, you're gonna be cold and that bugs you way more than it bugs me.”

“I'm wearing a number of layers, I'll survive as long as we hurry home before the storm starts.” Hermann reassured him, pulling the parka off and kissing Newton's forehead as he offered it out.

“Are you sure? I know it bugs your hip when you get too cold, I don't wan--” Newton began, his tone switching from chaotically loud to soft and concerned. A tone only ever granted to Hermann. Newton was constantly giving Hermann the consideration that no others ever really did, but only ever in private so as not to seem like he was diminishing Hermann. Newt was constantly, quietly conscious of Hermann's body in a way that did not tear him down by implying he was weak; he never babied, only checked in. It was one of the many reasons he loved the strange little fellow. One of the many reasons he planned to ask Newton to marry him, if only he could work up the courage.

“Yes, I'm sure. You can warm me up when we get home, hm?” Hermann smirked just a little. Newt's eyes went wide and he grinned that crooked grin that Hermann wanted to see for the rest of his life.

“I'll spoon you all fuckin' night baby.” Newt wiggled his brows as he spoke, jamming his hands into the parka pockets.

It was then that Hermann realized his mistake, eyes widening for only a moment before he regained his composure. Inside the coats pockets was a little red velvet lined box containing the engagement ring he had planned to propose with that night. He silently damned himself for not only failing to propose the way he had wanted; after dinner, as the sun set, atmosphere heavy with the promise of the sort of storm he and Newton loved to watch from their enclosed porch. He had tried, but the words caught in his throat, and the timing seemed off. But now there was the danger that Newton would find it, and all because he was still too nervous with his feelings. They had drifted, they had saved the world, they had gone through hell together, but Hermann still found himself choked up at the thought of Newton loving him the way he did.

“Uh oh. What's that face?” Newton had caught his slip up, hands still in the pockets.

“Mm- nothing. I'm fine.” Hermann lied, jaw setting. He hoped Newt would avoid doing what he knew he would... Newton didn't ever value Hermann's personal space, and now that they were a couple, even less so.

“... Whatcha got here?” Newton said, pulling out the box and opening it immediately. When he saw the ring mounted in the middle, his eyes went wide and his feet stopped.

“.. Oh my god. Wait.” Newt said.

And then, to Hermann's horror, he burst into laughter. His heart dropped as the noise he normally loved cut through him. The idea of marrying Hermann was that hilarious to Newt? Was it really that far-fetched to assume that after all they had been through, he would want it to be legally binding? He knew Newt wasn't a fan of traditional convention, but damn it, they had _discussed_ it before! They had spoken about their idea of a perfect honeymoon, and who they wouldn't invite to the wedding itself... Was Hermann really such a fool for thinking it? The pain in his heart must have translated to his expression; Newton stopped laughing.

Only then did Hermann see the tears pouring down his cheeks in messy little rivulets.

Only then did he see that Newt had something in his other hand.

“Were you gonna propose to me, dude?” Newt said, voice cracking.

“I – yes, but I lost the nerve...” Hermann said, a hand moving to brush the tears from his cheeks.

When Newt looked up, he was grinning just a little.

“Fuck, Herms. Me too.” He laughed again, opening his other hand. “All through dinner I wanted to like, yell it at you, but I kept getting all choked up...”

“... What?” Hermann said, looking to his hand. In Newt's palm was a similar box, kaiju-blue in color. Hermann took it, opening it to see a remarkably similar engagement ring mounted inside.

“... Why don't we say it on three?” Newt said, voice soft and full of joy.

“O-of course.” Hermann's heart swelled, feeling full to bursting as Newton counted.

One,

Two,

Three--

“Newton, will you marry me?”  
“Hermann, will you marry me?”

 


	7. Alice (Let's just call this pre-marriage)

Alice.

_Alice._

A name so sweet but so full of horrors, a pseudonym for the entity that had held a razor-sharp grip on Newton's mind. It all fell into place for Hermann. The sudden clarity made him feel ill, wrong, his stomach lurching at the sight of the lipstick-adorned name on the tank. A pockmarked alien brain, afloat in a horrible yellowish-greenish liquid, barely seeming alive but still very much there. The board beside it assured that; blue-lit vital signs for the wretched thing read clearly that it lived, that its brainwaves were strong.

It was that foul thing that had kept Newton away for so long.

It was that monstrous entity that had changed the man he loved, stolen him away and replaced him with some cheap fabrication in expensive clothing.

“Isn't she beautiful?” Newton's voice came from behind; Hermann whipped around, gripping his cane so tight that his knuckles went bone-white.

“Newton. This – this thing... You've been drifting with it. For ten years, you've been drifting with it.” Hermann's voice was choked as he fought back the bile rising in his throat.

“She shows me wonderful things, Hermann... You should give it a try. Why do you think I invited you over? We talk about you a lot. I know they would love to get to know you, the way they know me.” Newton sounded wrong. His voice was somewhere far away, his tone dreamy, as if he were drugged.

“I will not allow this to continue, Newton. I _cannot_. The damage this must have done to you... I – I'm so sorry. I should have seen it sooner.” Hermann said.

A shadow seemed to pass over Newton's expression, and within it Hermann could see a hundred emotions flickering through him at once. Newton's body began to tremble, his fingers curling into fists. Hermann watched the minute changes in his face, the way his jaw clenched tight and his brows twitched as if holding back some great pain, his eyes filling with tears. Hermann took a step forward, unwilling to show his fear.

“Hermann, it would be... best if you left. If you aren't going t-to accept this, then I don't want you in my life. Get out. Get out **now**!” Newton shrieked it. In his voice, Hermann heard a fear so deep that it left a bitter taste in his mouth. In his voice, Hermann heard _him_.

“Newton. I know you're there – fight, damn you. Fight them!” Hermann surged forward, grabbing him by the collar. “I'm here, Newton, and I will never let you go again! I will free you from them, no matter what it takes.”

And then, a hand on his throat, gripping tight. Hermann gasped his surprise as he felt himself crumple to the floor, Newton's grasp on his throat vicious and intent on squeezing the life from him. He brought his hand up, desperate to wrest him off but unwilling to attack him to do so. He would rather die than hurt the other man, no matter the reason. Newton's teeth were bared, grinding together, and Hermann could almost feel the power struggle happening within him.

“Fight, Newton!” Hermann hissed, trying to jam his own fingers beneath Newton's.

“They – they're too strong, Hermann. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!” Newton sobbed.

“You are stronger!” Hermann mouthed, his vision beginning to blur at the edges.

“He is weak!” A voice that Hermann had only heard in his nightmares came, speaking through Newton's lips.

Something clicked for Hermann, then. He would rather die than to hurt Newton – but Newton fought now against his own body, against his own mind. Perhaps the Precursors were right, and Newton was weak... But who wouldn't be, after fighting for ten long years alone? If he was weak, it was only because he didn't have Hermann at his side. They could forgive each other for hurting one another, but Hermann would never forgive himself if he let Newton suffer this atrocity any longer. As his body began to go limp, Hermann mustered every bit of strength he could into his arm. His cane was still in his hand, his grip too tight to have dropped it. And with that cane, he freed himself, by way of a hard strike across Newton's back.

The shock loosened his grip enough for Hermann to free himself, gasping for air as he backed away, blinking the tears from his eyes as he watched Newton collect himself, standing up quickly. Hermann practically jumped to his feet; he was anything but able-bodied, but adrenaline kept the pain at bay, and blinding desperation moved his feet. Cane still in hand, he swung with all his strength at the board connected to the tank. Delicate machinery gave way to the steel handle of the cane, the middle lighting up with fractals of rainbow tinted cracks. He struck again, and again, until the board, and the tank, went dark.

He could hear Newton screaming where he had backed away.

“I will not allow this thing to hold you any longer, Newton.” Hermann whispered, his throat raw.

“No!” The beast spoke through Newton, who moved towards him, steps stunted, uncoordinated.

The Precursors were losing control.

“Yes! Fight, Newton! I am with you!” Hermann yelled back, lifting the cane again to focus now on the tank itself.

He swung, and swung, and swung again, vengeance buzzing through his mind. The creature would die, and the Precursors would see it through the eyes of the ones they tried to steal from him. He continued to crack his cane against the tank, his aim true. He was the Hand of God, striking the beast from the earth, wresting its control away to trouble them no longer. Finally, a crack appeared in the tanks glass. A hairline fracture that grew with each strike, until the grotesque fluid containing the brain began to spill forth. The Precursors wailed through Newton as the brain began to pull into the vacuum created by his cane, its meat ripping on the shattered glass.

Hermann did not stop. His anger was so great that he did not stop until the thing sloshed out of the tank and to his feet, and even then he did not stop. He focused his fury on it, on the disgusting mass of rotting flesh that had robbed ten years from the life of the only man who had ever meant anything to him. Ten years that they could have had together, ten years they could have spent making a life together. Ten years they would never get back. For those ten years, Hermann would collect his pound of flesh, beating any sign of life out of the brain. He continued until he could no longer move his arms, and the cane slipped from his grasp.

“Newton.” Hermann whispered, turning to the man.

Newton was curled up on the floor, eyes wide and bloodshot. Hermann ran to him, dropping to his knees and gathering the smaller man into his arms. He was soaked with the fluid from the tank, but Hermann didn't care. The only thing that mattered was knowing if he was okay – if the death of the creature had broken him in some way, or if he could recover.

“Newton?” Hermann said, looking down at his face.

“Hermann...” Newt whimpered, a shaking hand rising to touch Hermann's.

“I'm here, Newton. Always.” Hermann said.

“I knew you would save me. You're a rockstar.” Newton said.

Hermann laughed in a way that barely masked the sob threatening to rip from his throat.

“Don't be ridiculous. That's your thing.” Hermann squeezed him gently, relishing in the sensation of finally having Newton in his arms.

Relief poured into the wound deep in his soul, gently scrubbing away the pains and aches of the last ten years. It was time they would never get back – but at least now, they could make up for it.


	8. Morning Sex (Exactly what it sounds like)

“Harder, Hermann; fuck me like you mean it!” Newton gasped, clinging to the lanky man whose hips slammed against his ass, thrusts deep and rough. But it wasn't enough. Newton needed _more_ , needed to feel so excruciatingly full that he could never forget it. He was made for this; he was made for Hermann, to feel him, to hold him, to take him in. He could tell that Hermann knew it, too. The surly scientist had a delightful possessive streak a mile wide, and when he had Newton like this, he gave it his all.

He was so strong, one long-fingered hand holding up one of Newton's legs by the thigh as he pummelled him so hard that it ached. Hermann's lips were at Newt's pulsepoint, teeth occasionally grating against it. He was an absolute animal, and Newt was lost in the every feeling he was granted. Each stroke dragged across his prostate, causing him to whine out. His arms were around Hermann, unwilling to move to stroke himself off. The thought of not having Hermann's body against him at that moment was excruciating, more so than the idea of his neglected cock.

He heard a deep rumbling. Did Hermann make the noise, or was it the same noise he had heard before they had ended up the way they were, with Newton's back pressed into one of the lab tables? It was the sort of rumble that shook the room, but if it was Hermann, maybe it only felt that way because of how close they were. Close enough that every movement one made, the other felt. Close enough that Newton wondered with a shred of amusement if they might be able to drift without the pons. Hermann whispered something against his throat that he couldn't make out.

The rumbling continued, but Newton was too lost in the feeling to care. His mind was swimming, his nerves on fire. He could feel his end coming, coiled up in his belly, ready to burst. The rumbling turned into a crashing, but Newton didn't care, he didn't fucking care, all he cared about was Hermann and how deep inside he was, how he enveloped him with his body. He felt so small, so secure beneath him, the powerful thrusts of his hips keeping him anchored. Hermann was relentless, even as the roof was torn off of the laboratory.

“Focus on me, Newton.” Hermann whispered into his neck.

From above, rain poured in, soaking their bodies. From above, Newton saw her. Otachi hovered, screeching, tearing the roof apart to get to them. Newton watched as her grotesque face split in three, flower-like tongue unfurling, creeping closer and closer to them. He could not move, pinned beneath his lover, but no fear invaded his senses. All he could feel was Hermann, all survival instincts halted in favor of delicious sensation.

“Focus on **me** , Newton! You are mine.” Hermann growled, hips slamming against him so hard it knocked his breath from his lungs.

Otachi screeched.

–

Newton awoke, gasping out hard and pulling up to rest on his elbows. His hips were being held gently, fingers stroking over his skin.

“Good morning.” Hermann's voice was soft and amused.

Newton fumbled for his glasses, nearly shoving one of the temples into his eye as he pushed them on. The sight he was greeted with made him moan out, shoving his hand on to his own face, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses to make sure he was awake. Hermann was between his legs, looking rather comfortable, a little smile on his swollen lips. He slid a hand from Newt's hips to his saliva-slick cock, stroking him with his fingertips.

“H-hi. Good morning. How are you?” Newt said, voice a little high pitched.

“I'm doing wonderfully. You were squirming against me and moaning in your sleep... was it a good dream?” Hermann said, tongue sliding along his length as he spoke.

“Ffff-fuck – it was. The end got a little weird but that's just my brain being my brain...” Newton let himself fall back to the bed, watching Hermann lavish attention on his cock. It was fairly rare that Hermann was so eager in the morning, and Newt was thrilled. He decided he would never, ever mention the stuff with Otachi from the dream.

“Tell me about it.” Hermann said.

“Well... I was getting pounded on a beach by a young Jason Momoa...” Newt said, unable to resist the urge to be a jackass, even when his husband had his mouth on his cock. He whined when Hermann stopped moving.

“I'm kidding! It was you. It's always you Hermann! You were fucking me in the old Shatterdome lab... on one of the tables. You were like, really giving it to me, it was so fucking hot.” Newt moaned softly as he pictured it.

“Hardly a practical place to make love,” Hermann hummed, “And I don't think my hip would agree with that sort of... pounding.”

“Oh my god, say pounding again. Please.” Newt moaned. Hermann chuckled softly, placing a kiss to his tip.

“Pounding.” Hermann said, practically purring the word. It sent a jolt straight to Newton's cock.

“Jesus christ, why is everything you say so sexy?” Newton moaned, sitting back up on his elbows and looking to him. “Hey, so, how's your hip feeling this morning?”

“It's doing fairly well...” Hermann raised a brow.

“Fairly well as in you're good to go?” Newt asked, ever conscientious of Hermann's injury.

“... Absolutely.” Hermann confirmed.

“ AH! Good, excellent. Here, let me up, I'm gonna run to the bathroom real quick... when I get back, I'm riding you, so be ready!” Newt exclaimed.

“Yes sir!” Hermann laughed as he pulled away, watching happily as his husband nearly tripped over his own feet in his scramble to the bathroom.

Thank god they didn't work weekends anymore.

 


	9. Moving Day (Hermann and Newton move in together)

“I mean, when you're looking for appearance over functionality, sure, that guy is definitely the strongest.” Newton commented to Hermann, who furrowed his brows. They were sitting in the shade watching the moving men unload their possessions into their new home. Newton was leaning against the beautiful tree in the front yard with Hermann lounging against him. His husband's slender, long body was tucked between his Newton's legs, whose tattooed arms rested comfortably around his waist. At Hermann's request there was a thick blanket on the ground.

“What does that mean, precisely? Surely the toning of his musculature means that he's got at least **some** strength.” Hermann protested. For the past twenty minutes they had been openly discussing the men's bodies as their things were brought into the new home.

“Oh, I'm sure he's plenty strong, but you can tell he's nowhere near as strong as that dude. The one on the porch.” Newton pointed out.

“Him? He has a bit of a potbelly, Newton...” Hermann smiled, subtly trying to pull the explanation from Newt. He knew he was raring to go, to provide the biological facts behind both of the builds; the broad, big bellied man on the porch, and the lean, tan, heavily muscled one bringing in a box. Hermann loved when Newton got going about his chosen subjects; listening to him ramble passionately about this or that was one of the things Hermann secretly adored. When they were looking for homes, Newton had been insistent on picking the one they did mostly for the beautiful Sessile oak in the front and dense foliage in the back. He had spent a good hour talking about _Quercus petraea_ and how important an oak it was; how strong theirs must be, how healthy it was, how deep the roots ran.

“Real muscle is usually buried under a thick layer of fat! Some of the strongest people in the world look like that! That muscle-bound ape over there probably spends all his off hours pounding creatine and trying to pick up attractive women with low confidence. Or twinks, who knows. I'm not here to judge past his physique.” Newt said.

“Real muscle? How is that not real muscle?” Hermann smirked, looking up at him.

“It's **real** but it's real in the way that a man made pond is. Sure, it looks like a regular pond, and it can sustain life if you watch over it, but if left alone it'd go to shit. Porch-butch over there, though? He's all natural. He got that physique through constant manual labor. That's the kinda dude you want with you in a zombie situation, not the other one. Muscle-ape would wear out in an hour and expect you to take care of him *and* kill the zombies. Porch-butch would just need you to watch after the others while he takes care of business. Then he'd build you a shelter because he's the type of dude that totally knows how to build a shelter. He would make sure everyone else eats first because he's got reserves.” Newton rambled, hands moving away from Hermann's midsection to gesture wildly, getting himself over-excited. Hermann, charmed, looked up at him. His clunky metaphor and ridiculous exposition were delightful to listen to when Hermann allowed himself not to interject.

“I think you have a little crush on porch-butch, Newton.” Hermann teased, pulling Newton's hands back to their original position.

“What? Hell no. This is purely scientific talk.” Newton grinned, leaning down to kiss Hermann upside down. “Besides, I don't want you thinking that all those muscles are practical, since I know how much you appreciate a practical man...”

Hermann raised a brow.

“... I'm engaged to you, Newton. What makes you think I appreciate a practical man?” Hermann replied.

All Newton could do was laugh.

 


	10. Pride (Hermann attends his first Pride event with Newt)

“You're sure it isn't too much?” Hermann mumbled softly as they got out of the cab, looking down at himself skeptically. He could already hear the festivities, San Francisco Pride in full swing all around not far from where they now stood.

“Too much? It isn't enough, dude. This is PRIDE! And it's your first one? Be happy I love you enough not to force you to go Maximum Queer.” Newton said, grinning at his fiance.

“I'm assuming that's what happened with your outfit...” Hermann mumbled, giving the man a once-over.

“You bet your sweet ass it is. I was forced to suppress my homosexuality for a solid ten years, I'm never wearing real pants again. This is what you have to look forward to for the rest of our lives.” Newton posed, a hand on his hip and another on the back of his head, looking pointedly towards the sky.

“I think I can handle that.” Hermann smirked.

Newton was obnoxiously colorful, clad in a pair of cut-off denim short-shorts and a pastel pink crop-top that he had “specially designed”... Which meant that he had painted on it with fabric paint in a rainbow of colors to spell out “gay love saved me from the anteverse”. He had tied a rainbow bandanna around his neck, making a little ascot of it. His hair was streaked with glittery color, both on his head and in his beard. On his feet he wore a pair of sneakers that lit up in different colors with every step he took. His belly, once more delightfully chubby, poked out, making it difficult for Hermann to resist the urge to squeeze him. He had recovered well from his time under the sway of the Precursors, Hermann's tender care guiding him back to a place where he was happy and free.

Hermann was, as one might expect, more understated, but very much dressed for the day. He had allowed Newton to dress him how he wanted, with the condition that he be allowed to veto anything too ridiculous. That addendum had saved him the humiliation of the assless chaps that Newton had found and presented with a horribly lewd look on his face. Instead, he wore a pair of shorts – yes, _shorts_ – that preserved his dignity. They were denim as well, and longer than Newton's, but held a myriad of different sewn on patches; a rainbow star of David, one that said 'how dare you presume I'm heterosexual', the NASA logo, his Shatterdome call number, and a number of others that Hermann found to be fitting. He didn't know where Newt found them all, but he loved them. He wore a pair of heavy boots that he insisted were adequately gay, for which Newton had been calling him a lesbian all day, and his shirt was sleeveless and the same shade of pink as Newton's, and bore the sentence “the gay love that saved him from the anteverse”.

Newton had insisted that they match (“Because there's nothing more gay than matching with your fiance”), and that they both have their nails painted in a cascade of rainbow (“Just in case they don't see the other rainbow shit”). Hermann's cane had even been dressed up for the occasion, several airy rainbow scarves wrapped around its length. He didn't know how glitter had ended up on his face but the safe bet was to blame Newton, so he did. They decided not to tame his hair that morning, letting it stay in its natural wild, slightly curled state (“You can't hold anything back at Pride, not even your hair”).

They had already gotten looks on the way there, but Hermann was ecstatic. Pride meant so much to him; though he had never hidden himself away, he had also never really had anyone to celebrate with. Newton told him that he would have made friends if he had gone to the festivals alone, but who wanted to do that? Now, hand-in-hand with his husband-to-be, Hermann's chest practically swelled with pride. He knew that it would be overwhelming once they got there, but was determined to maintain his composure; it was a special day for both of them.

That day marked the one year anniversary of the day Hermann wrested Newton free from the Precursors, and the recovery process was truly able to begin. It marked the one year anniversary of the two of them finally admitting that they were lost without each other, and a promise to never part again was made. They would marry officially on the winter Solstice. Sometime within the next year, they would help launch an offensive against the Precursors and the Anteverse. Hermann would not rest until they paid for what they had done to his man, but until that time came, he was content just having him back.

"Let's do this thing.” Hermann smiled. He removed his hand from within Newt's and slid it around his waist, resting on his other side as they made their way into the throng of festival-goers. His fingers squeezed his side rhythmically, finding the feeling incredibly comforting among the push of the crowd. Newton gave a little giggle, resting his hand over Hermann's and sticking close to him.

“Let's do this thing. Nerd.” Newt grinned up at him.

Hermann paused where he was, making sure there was space to do what he intended to do next. He nodded his head towards a group walking behind them, signaling the need for space as he wrapped both arms around Newton's waist. They seemed to get it, and without warning, Hermann dipped Newton deeply, and kissed him even deeper, grinning at the cheers it brought from the crowd. Newt threw his arms around his shoulders in surprise, but let Hermann move him, laughing into his lips before returning the kiss.

“I'm your nerd.” Hermann mumbled.

“Til the end of time, baby.” Newton agreed.

 


	11. Meet the Becketts (Hermann and Newt babysit Mako and Raleigh's kids)

“And then it _shwoop!_ , sucks in everything like a vaccuum!” The wide-eyed girl said, clapping her hands together with the infectious enthusiasm that only a five year old could truly summon.

“Goodness! Does it do that to everything?” Hermann was sitting in his rolling chair, both hands on the handle of his cane, leaning his chin on them as he listened to the children.

“I don't know! Yancy, does it?” She gasped, and looked to the side, where her brother was listening with an intense expression that was identical to his mothers.

“Not to everything... I think it can't suck up a Jaeger, but maybe it can do it to a house or maybe some animals.” Yancy said, nodding.

“Oh yeah, I don't think a black hole could suck up a Jaeger, those are really really super big. I bet it could suck up a boat!” Sumako whispered, her tone scandalized.

Newton grinned as he watched the three of them. They were babysitting Sumako and Yancy Beckett, the wonderful children of Raleigh and Mako. Raleigh had taken a leave from the Rangers after Mako gave birth, opting to be a stay-at-home father (or, as Mako had put it, her 'house husband') until they were old enough to attend school. It was their first weekend being allowed in the Shatterdome, and though Hermann and Newton had met them once or twice, this was the first time Raleigh had been able to bear the thought of leaving them alone with the scientists. Mako, who grew up around the two, knew that they were excellent babysitters and that Newton's destructive urges were always completely dormant in the presence of a child. She had coaxed Raleigh into agreeing by putting both Newton and Hermann's phone numbers in his phone, and getting the scientists to agree that they would accept any attempt at video calls. It was adorable how doting Raleigh was.

Newt had been incredibly excited to watch the two, even if just for the chance to watch genetics at work. He saw Mako in Sumako's eyes and hair, and Raleigh in her grin. In Yancy, he saw Mako in his demeanor, quiet and intense, and Raleigh in his facial features. They were a delight to talk to, though Newton hadn't really been able to... The two seemed entirely fixated on Hermann, and Newt was doing his best not to be jealous. He was the cool uncle, through and through, but for _some_ reason the kids had been clamoring for Hermann's attention for the last forty minutes. Newt had so many plans to keep them entertained; he was going to teach them to play the keyboard, or play with his Kaiju figurine collection, or show them his Kaiju specimens, or teach them some easy science experiments. And that was only scratching the surface. He planned on sneaking them into the Jaeger bay to see them up close.

Instead, they had been talking to Hermann since they arrived, never showing a break in enthusiasm. Sumako had even drawn him a picture of a constellation she had 'discovered' that looked like a whale. Hermann treated everything they had to say as if it was the most intriguing thing he had ever heard, listening with rapt attention to them incorrectly explain aspects of space that Hermann, the astrophysicist, had studied for years. It would be like someone telling Newton how about the function of kaiju brains. He was amazed that Hermann had yet to become visibly irritated, or to correct the kids in some way, or even just try to teach them things.

No, Hermann was the very pinnacle of patience, allowing little Yancy to wax poetic about Sumako's constellation and how it came to be. He didn't call the very prospect of a giant floating space whale ridiculous, or tell him that constellations were merely a way to pinpoint locations in the night sky. He didn't tell Sumako that it didn't change positions because it was moving to find its babies, who had been lost when a star exploded between them. They didn't go running to Newton to tell _him_ stories instead because Hermann was too grumpy and mean about it. They didn't regale him with tales of the way they thought the world worked, with wild imaginings of the fabric of their universe and others. They totally ignored all the cool stuff Newton had laid out on his desk to grab their attention.

They totally ignored _Newt_ in favor of Hermann, and he had to bite down the weird jealousy that brewed in him. _He_ was the cool one. _He_ was the one who would not only entertain their ideas but give them ones of his own, while teaching them the fundamentals of the subject of their choice. He had thought at first that maybe they just preferred to talk about space, but that idea was dashed when Sumako began to give her impression of a Kaiju, puffing out her little shoulders and standing on her tiptoes. She placed her outstretched fingers over her head and proclaimed herself Mutavore.

“Oh, goodness! Mutavore!?” Hermann gasped, putting a hand over his chest in mock surprise, eyes wide before turning to the boy. “Ranger Yancy, you must save us!”

Newton's jealousy quickly dissolved, watching Hermann play along with the kids. Shit, he was a natural, wasn't he? That wasn't the first time kids had gravitated towards the more severe of the two. It was remarkable to watch, even Newton had to admit. The man who had once told Newton that he had no time for any sort of tomfoolery, _especially_ in the lab, instantly changed around kids. The brass had authorized field trips for a few local schools after the Breach was destroyed, and whenever they got to the lab part of their trips, the kids would seem completely rapt with whatever Hermann had to say.

There was a kindness to the way Hermann spoke to the kids that made Newton feel like a monster for getting jealous. He explained things in a gentle, simple enough for the age group way, and would answer questions long after it stopped just being common courtesy. It never seemed like an obligation for Hermann, who seemed genuinely happy when there were little ones around. Newt was amazed by him, and opted to just watch Hermann interact for the time being.

He absolutely proved himself to be the more fun one later on, thank you very much, making oobleck with them out of cornstarch and water (he wanted to make quicksand but was vetoed by Hermann), then later then a surprisingly complex Rube Goldberg machine that stretched the length of the laboratory. He and Hermann worked well as a team to keep the kids entertained. By the time Mako and Raleigh returned to collect them, they found that Hermann had fallen asleep sitting up with the two kids leaning on either side of him on their beat up lab couch.

Newt had taken about fifty pictures. You know, for evidence.

“Herms, come on, I wanna go to bed.” Newt cooed to the man, gently rubbing his cheek.

Hermann made a low noise, bringing his hand up to rest over Newton's as he slowly opened his eyes, looking at him from the two little slits. Newt grinned.

“C'mon handsome, let's go sleep in bed, that couch always makes your hip hurt.” He said.

“The twins...” Hermann's brows furrowed.

“Mom and dad came to get 'em. They thank you for your service and we're gonna have them over again tomorrow.” Newt reassured.

“Oh... Good, good.” Hermann removed his hand, sitting up a little straighter and taking Newton's hand in his to stand up.

Newton fidgeted the whole way back to their now shared quarters, guiding the still-groggy Hermann quietly. Watching the other man with kids time and time again seemed to have jostled something in him, something he never knew was there to begin with. He always assumed he would never have kids; surely they would impede his rock-star lifestyle of spending all hours of the day holed up in the lab with his husband. Where would he find the time? How could he raise a kid safely in a world like theirs? But now, older and living in a post-Apocalypse-cancellation world with a husband and a pension, the idea had resurfaced.

“Hey, Herms?” Newton said as he undressed them both, once in their quarters. Hermann, whose eyes were closing already, made a questioning noise.

“Let's have a kid of our own.” Newt suggested, as casually as one would suggest dinner plans.

“... Excuse me?” Hermann's eyes opened, looking down at him as Newton got his trousers off.

“A kid. Let's have one. We could adopt, there are tons of kids who need parents. Or we could get a surrogate if you want a biologically yours one.” Newt said, standing back up to strip his own shirt off.

“You want to... have a child? Where's this coming from?” Hermann muttered.

“God, for a genius you're pretty dense sometimes. We'd be awesome dads. You especially. You're great with kids! We could look some stuff up tomorrow, get the ball rolling...” Newt grinned, working on his own pants.

“T-tomorrow? Newton, you can't just decide spur of the moment that you want a child!” Hermann was more awake now, sputtering at the thought.

“Why not? Straight people do it all the time.” Newton pointed out. Hermann gave a snort, but seemed to consider it.

“I... why don't we discuss this in further detail in the morning?” He said.

“Sounds good. Wanna... uh, you know. Act like we're making one in the old fashioned way, til then?” Newton propositioned clumsily.

“What? Newton!” Hermann said, brows furrowing as Newton wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

“It'll be sexy, I promise. I can act like I'm ovu--” Newton began. Hermann put a hand over his mouth.

“.. Don't finish that statement or I'm never sleeping with you again. Ever. Get on the bed.” Hermann said.

Gleefully, Newton tossed himself on to it, laughing as Hermann followed.

 


	12. Forget-Me-Not (Newton mopes, Hermann reassures)

“I figured you would just move on, you know? Once the world wasn't ending anymore you'd be able to get on with your own life without me there. Forget about me, maybe have a family or something.” Newton muttered. He was pale as the driven snow laying on the hospital bed, thin and not at all like himself. Even his tattoos seemed to have lost their vividity. Hermann's whole face felt like it was drooping, devastated to see Newton in such a state. The Precursors had done everything in their power to destroy Newton on their way out, to render him broken and frail. Hermann took his hand and linked their fingers, shifting his chair as close as he could. Newton's eyes went a little wider, pale green seeming all the greener in that moment as Hermann laid his forehead against Newton's arm. He didn't know if he could look him in the eyes right then, those normally bright and cheerful eyes.

“You absolute fool.” Hermann said with quiet conviction. He felt Newton shifting to sit up further, felt his arm tense beneath the skin of his forehead. Good. Let him be offended!

“Excuse me? I'm pouring my heart out to you here and you call me a fool? Nice insult by the way, very old English. Like you.” Newton muttered. Hermann lifted his head and looked at him, letting his anger at Newton's assumption show in his set jaw and furrowed brow. He still held his hand just as gently.

“You **are** a fool! How could I ever forget you?” Hermann snapped.

“Easily, I hoped, and --” Newton began, but Hermann cut him off.

“How dare you. How dare you assume I think so little of you that I could just let you go and not spend that entire ten years trying to understand how I could have let you leave so easily. How – how _resigned_ I became immediately after you left because I felt like an idiot for assuming you might see something more in me than everyone else. That the only person who respected me enough to question me could cast me off so easily to go work for some company that he would have cast off as a capitalist nightmare before. Newton, I thought _you_ were the one who wanted to move on. I never did. I never wanted to. I've been standing here waiting for you for ten years like some lonely widow staring out at the sea wondering when her husband will come home from out at sea, never able to acknowledge that he's long gone, taken by the storm. You were always the only person I ever wanted to wait for, Newton, the only person who meant anything worthwhile to me. I _love_ you, Newton, and my biggest regret is having been too much of a coward to tell you ten years ago when the Breach was closed. I regret not telling you because I couldn't fathom offering my heart to someone when it had been stepped on so many times before. I regret not seeing that something was – that something was wrong, and that you needed my help.” Hermann said, voice cracking and heavy with pain. He was the one to really pour his heart out this time, and Newton could do nothing but listen. He squeezed Hermann's hand, and when Hermann allowed the world to come back into focus after his anguished rant, he saw tears streaming down Newton's reddened cheeks in pitiful little rivulets.

“Hermann – Hermann I'm so sorry, I – I wanted to stay, I couldn't, I just – they wouldn't...” Newton sobbed.

Hermann stood up, then, pulling his hand from Newton's and clutching his cheeks in his hands. He brushed aside his tears with careful strokes of his thumbs, leaning in to kiss his forehead gently. He held his lips there for a moment, feeling Newton's hands come up to hold his hands there. They took comfort in one another's presence for a moment more before Hermann pulled back.

“Didn't you hear me? I regret not seeing something was wrong. It isn't your fault. But regrets are for the past, Newton, and it won't help you recover to dwell on them. We have one another now, right? We can make up for that time. We can take another ten years to do things right this time. And another ten after that. And a few more decades after that if we're lucky.” Hermann told him, voice soft.

“I'm never gonna leave again. You're fuckin' stuck with me, okay?” Newton said, still sobbing softly.

“Nothing would make me happier than to be stuck with you for life.” Hermann reassured.

 


	13. Trousers (Newton tries to distract Hermann from a presentation)

“Are you doing this deliberately because you know I just ironed these trousers?” Hermann grumbled as Newton crawled on to his lap. Newton said nothing for a moment, looking at him and taking the notepad that Hermann from his hands, dumping it unceremoniously on the floor. Hermann’s brows furrowed. Newton was careful to keep the pressure off of his bad hip, but his pants were already completely rumpled and Hermann had a presentation to worry about.

“Nah, I just want attention. You’ve been so caught up in your talks and your presentations lately that I’ve been feeling… neglected. C'mon. I’m way more interesting, right? Huh? Your man? Your husband who loves ya? Who is always ready to go at a moments notice for you?” Newton said, brows raising in a way that might have been meant to be suggestive but ended up vaguely comical. Hermann sighed, looking to his notepad. He wasn’t as irritated by his behavior as he might have been years and years before; now, he found his desire for Hermann’s attention something he should boast to others about. The way that Newton desired **him** was an intoxicating thought.

But not at that moment. At that moment, he needed to do last minute prep for his presentation. Which was in ten minutes. The last thing he needed was to get worked up before he had to speak on technical matters to a room full of academics.

“Neglected? I hardly neglect you, Newton. I’ve been busy, of course, but you’ve been with me doing your own presentations. We’re on this tour  _together_.” Hermann said, hands resting on Newton’s sides. It was one of his favorite places to touch, soft and warm, comforting and familiar. Newton’s arms draped over his shoulders, and he pressed their foreheads together. He had a habit of trying to get as close as he could physically; the man had no respect for personal space when it came to Hermann (not that he was complaining, really, but the timing was all wrong).

“I know, but between presentations you know I’m all yours. A resource you’re  _greatly_  under-utilizing.” Newton whined.

“Don’t try to tempt me using my distaste for wasted resources. You aren’t a resource, you’re my husband, and I have literally… eight minutes now before I have to go out there, and the walk will take me two. I don’t have time for this!” Hermann plead with him, but there was no finality to his voice. The truth of the matter was that if Newton wanted him to stay where he was, he would. He would skip the presentation. He would cancel the whole damned tour and stay in bed with Newton for the next month if he wanted it.

But Newton just smiled, leaning in to kiss him. It wasn’t a chaste kiss, but it wasn’t passionate either. It was comfortable, their mouths slotting together the way they always did, lazy and familiar. Hermann’s heart still beat a little harder, though, and when Newton pulled back he couldn’t help but sigh.

“You do love making things difficult for me, don’t you?” Hermann smiled.

“You know it, grandpa. Now come on. The sooner you get this presentation done the sooner we can go back to the hotel and bang.” Newton said, voice cheerful as he removed himself from his lap. Hermann wasn’t sure exactly when Newton saying the word ‘bang’ had conditioned a Pavlovian reaction to occur within his body, but the moment he said it his cheeks began to heat up and he found himself thankful that he went with boxer-briefs that day to accompany his baggy trousers.

“You little devil.” Hermann mumbled as he stood.

“Your little devil.” Newton grinned, fixing his tie. “Now go get 'em, tiger.”

 


End file.
